Flame Eternal
by ultimatedramaqueen
Summary: Stella finds herself with many gifts she has not been aware of until she turns 18. Finding herself thrust upon a world of fairies and magic, will she be able to find her family and figure out the mystery and circumstances surrounding her birth?
1. Prologue

To those who have read my other stories, I am very sorry for starting yet another one without finishing the others yet, but I promise I'll get them done.

To those who have not read my other stories, I'll finish this one. I already promised a friend that I would, and I keep my word.

And to everyone reading this, enjoy my story! (then tell me what you think about it.)

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FLAME ETERNAL

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_"Be not afraid of greatness: some are born great, some achieve greatness, but others have greatness thrust upon them."_** --**Twelfth Night, _William Shakespeare  
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**Prologue:**

A cool wind blew that night from the north in the immortal realm of Thyhierda, but it was neither felt nor heard in the great halls of the magnificent Palace that stood high above the city. It went unnoticed by the stable boys, kitchen maids, heads-of-household, clerks, or scholars. And it was most especially unobserved by the lords and ladies that stood attendance to their queen in the Great Audience Hall where she kept vigil watching the Flame of Thyhierda as it blazed upon its pedestal.

The Flame of Thyhierda was the heart of the kingdom and had been formed from the greatness of Thyhierda's founders. The Flame was the source of strength for all fairykind and would remain for as long as fairies existed that were strong of heart, mind, and will.

Each being had strength within him, but only the Flame of Thyhierda could supply the strength required to draw great magic. During the making of the Flame, three mediums were created to enable fairies to draw strength and power from the Flame in its pure form for this was the most essential element in making the strongest kind of magic. The three items were bestowed upon the three great lords at the time Thyhierda was made, and these had been passed down from generation to generation for ages. Names had been given to these three channels of great magic: the Crystal Flame, the Heart of Fire, and the Flame of Theron.

The Crystal Flame had gone to the lord of the east and the Heart of Fire had gone to the lord of the west, and the Flame of Theron was given to the lord of the Heart of Thyhierda, king over all other lords and chosen to wear the golden crown above his brow. So Thyhierda, through the bequeathing of the three mediums of power, was divided into three regions—the center region where the monarch ruled directly, the eastern region that was overseen by a steward, and the western region overseen by stewards as well. Legend once gave an explanation as to why each lord had received the medium that he had been given. Why had the Flame of Theron gone to the Royal Family when it was said to be just as powerful a channel as the Crystal Flame and the Heart of Fire? There was a great reason for this, but that is a tale for another day.

Let us now return to the tale of the northern wind and how it blew in its futile attempts to call to the inhabitants in the Palace of the Queen of Thyhierda.

The northern wind was not used to being snubbed and increased its moaning; but in the Great Audience Hall, the wind went unnoticed that night, for the unexpected had just occurred and the people were afraid of what doom it bespoke.

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Queen Flerynn gasped as the Flame of Thyhierda flickered. She saw that the lords and ladies with her had noticed this as well. This had not happened in thousands of years. The last time that this had occured was when Lois the Flamebringer realized the strength of her magic and drew much of it through the Flame of Theron. That would be impossible since the Flame of Theron was not in the kingdom. It was with her daughter, and the chances of the Flame of Thyhierda flickering were close to none, unless her child was stronger than anyone had foreseen. For the Flame of Thyhierda to flicker because someone was drawing magic through the Flame of Theron from outside the kingdom, that person would have to have enough power to defeat hundreds—even thousands—of fairies at once! 

Only Lois the Flamebringer had been able to do that. And even Lois was merely legend. No one could tell for certain that she had made the Flame of Thyhierda flicker, because every fairy alive in her time had already passed on the Land of Eternal Fire.

How long had it been since Flerynn's little girl was born. It would be eighteen years now—Eighteen years! That would mean that the Flame of Theron was indeed in her hands and that she had drawn from it. Impossible! She supposedly would not be able to draw so much magic at such a young age. Therynn had personally started to draw what could be called a large amount of magic when she was already thirty—and she was no weak fairy! She was even one of the strongest. True, she was not as strong as she had been before she had married that traitorous Aliyander. He had "borrowed" her magic and used it to fulfill his own evil ends. However, some of her magic had been restored when young Tristan killed him—but not all of it for Aliyander had used the magic so often that little was left to return to her. Oh, how Flerynn had loved Aliyander. She had always thought he loved her back, but how could she think that after what he did? It was unthinkable!

Still it was good that she had already been in her sixtieth year when she had married him. She had already grown into the peak of her potential, ensuring that she had much magic to spare even with some of it being leeched away.

Flerynn heard the door open and the guard announced that Tristan of the Great Golden Wood had arrived. Tristan walked towards the throne and stopped when he was ten feet away. He bowed deeply as a servant bows to his sovereign. Standing straight, he saluted to the other lords and several of her generals also within the Great Audience Hall.

Ah! Tristan. He had great potential. How old was he this very year? Oh yes, he would be twenty-five in autumn. He had great potential from the start. He had been able to draw great magic when he was merely twenty and had proven a natural when he had defeated Aliyander with only a year of experience. That boy would be great one day—if he wasn't corrupted like Aliyander had been.

"Your Majesty, all is set for Her Highness's arrival tonight. I personally saw to it."

"Very good, Tristan. Now, I want you to bring her here personally. See to it that no harm comes to her. The portal in the Tower stands open."

After Tristan bowed and left, Flerynn returned to her musings.

What would it be like to see her daughter after all these years? She hoped that the girl would like her and even love her. _I wonder what she looks like now. She will surely be beautiful—even if she takes after Aliyander._

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Tristan shivered when the wind blew against him as he led his horse towards the tower with two loyal men-at-arms leading their own horses. The provisions were safely tucked into the saddlebags. Tristan hoped that the Princess had her own horse because the portal could only send so many beings through. 

The northern wind blew once more and Tristan shivered, feeling the omen that it brought—the winds of change were fast approaching. The Princess' arrival would cause many changes; that was for sure. If only the Heart of Fire would stop flaring against his chest. It was beginning to irritate him. What could cause it to react so? Only great magic drawn through one of the other two mediums could do this. It was impossible that the Princess could draw so much at the age of eighteen, so it must be Hector using the Crystal Flame to conduct another one of his experiments. When would he realize that it was very troubling for the other wearers when he used it so often? It cultivated nothing but laziness on Hector's part. But even so, Tristan fervently hoped that it was Hector using the Crystal Flame not the Princess using the Flame of Theron; because if it was her, he would have his hands full trying to watch out for her. Who knows what trouble she might want to cause for the sake of mischief?

As if sensing his thoughts, the men-at-arms held themselves straighter as if ready to ride to their deaths if the need arose. Laughing, Tristan shook his head and gave himself a lecture on how old he was for a supposedly young man of twenty-five. Well, if he was to be chosen to be the Great Lord of the West, he should start practicing; but still it was nice to be young for a change.

The portal was open just as the queen had said. The bright rubies holding the gates open glittered in the faint lamplight. Ushering the men-at-arms and horses into the portal first, he took hold of the rubies and swiftly yanked them out, stepped through the portal, and uttered the words that would trigger the gates to close. He carefully kept the rubies; he would need all of those exact rubies to reopen the portal to the tower. Boosting himself onto Silver, his horse, he rode towards Frell with the men-at-arms following closely behind.

The wind in Kyrria was not the same northern wind that had blown in Thyhierda, but it was kin to that northern wind; and so it eagerly blew past the three riders, eager to bring tidings of change to the Palace of the Kyrrian King and Queen.

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I hope you've enjoyed this chapter. Oh! I am soooo excited to write more, and you know what will get me more excited? Yes, you've guessed it. r-e-v-i-e-w-s-! Yup! 


	2. Who Am I?

Here's a bonus thing for all of you who have read the first chapter already. I couldn't wait even a day before adding this to the story--Oops. But I really really couldn't; I was struck by inspiration.

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**Chapter 1: Who am I?**

Stella leaned against the window, looking out into the starry night sky. It was the eve of her eighteenth birthday and preparations for the ball that was to take place the next evening were still ongoing at a late hour.

Sighing, Stella spoke to her reflection in the glass. "Estella Shaphira of Kyrria, tomorrow you will be eighteen, and you haven't even had a single adventure."

Her image only stared right back at her and she felt that something was truly missing in her life. She was at the point in her life where she needed to set her path towards something—something she would get so caught up in that she'd never want to give it up. But so far, she had no such luck. Life was still the same—simple, mundane, and boring.

She wanted some excitement in her life for once. She was the middle child in her family, having two older siblings and two younger ones, but she felt odd around them. It was as if she was different. She stood out in her family. When people spoke of the Royal Family of Kyyria, they would exclaim over how charming Stella's older sister Lela was or how handsome the Crown Prince Nathan was. Sometimes she even heard nice things about her younger sisters Areida and Leonore. But there was never anything good that people had to say about her. In fact, people didn't even say anything about her. She was always left standing in the background—unnoticed and unremarkable.

But why should they notice? Whereas all her sisters were or would turn out to be beauties and her brother was reputedly the most handsome man in Kyrria, she was plain and short. To say that her jet black hair made her stand out would not be exactly correct. It all the more made her quite unnoticeable. Her siblings all had bright reddish-brown hair or ruddy brown curls, but her hair was dull-looking when compared with theirs and she was very pale that she often looked quite transparent in complexion. Her sisters were as lovely as spring and they didn't even seem to notice, which made her feel all the more plain. Why was she plain? Her parents King Charmont and Queen Eleanor of Kyrria were a very lovely couple and considered by most people to be the most beautiful couple in all of Kyrria.

_What is wrong with me? _she thought.

A knock sounded on her door, and without preamble her mother slipped into the room. Settling herself comfortably on Stella's bed, she opened a smalled cedar box and spoke solemnly, which was very uncharacteristic of her.

"Stella, tomorrow you will be considered a grown woman; and I think it's time that I give you this."

Stella took the box from her mother, and opened the pouch that was in it. Inside the pouch was a necklace with a pendant of a very odd design. The pendant was shaped like a frozen ball of fire. It was clear blue and made her think of fire that had somehow frozen while blazing. Looking at it with approval, she thanked her mother for the gift.

Ella, as Stella's mother preferred to be called, shook her head and said, "That is not my gift to you. It is a gift from your mother."

Stella stared at her mother in confusion. She finally slowly drawled out, "What do you mean it is not from you and yet from my mother. Mother, you aren't making sense."

Ella sighed and, for the first time, she looked quite old. Choosing her words carefully, she answered, "I am sorry, Stella. I should have told you from the start that I am merely your guardian. Your mother came to me long ago, asking me to watch over you. I could not say no so Char and I took you as one of our own."

Stellas felt her fingers grow numb and distantly heard the box crash onto the ground unheeded, with the necklace following soon after.

She tried to grasp for words to say to deny it, but all that came out was, "I am different from everyone else."

Ella nodded gravely, saying, "We really did try to make you feel at home with us." Stooping over to pick up the fallen necklace, which miraculously did not shatter, she held it out to Stella. "And you should wear this. It will keep you safe. I don't know what from, but your mother specifically said to give it to you to wear before you turned eighteen and no earlier."

Stella just nodded mutely and slipped it on. Her thoughts would not stop spinning.

_Why am I taking all this so calmly? Have I known all along? What will happen to me? Who are my real parents? Who am I?_

Ella sympathetically held her hand and said, "Someone will come for you on the evening of your birthday."

"Who—"

"I don't know, Stella dear. All I know is that someone will."

"Ella—"

Ella interrupted, "Mother. I will always be Mother to you just as you will always be my daughter."

Stella looked helpless. "I'm sorry, Ella. I can't. Please understand."

Ella understood perfectly.

She sighed in resignation. "I tried to be the best mother I could be—"

"And you were."

"Yes, but it was not enough. There is much you need to know about your people; and I cannot teach you anything about them, but it seems that you already know more about them than you think."

At Stella's quizzical look, she continued, "Do you remember when Nathan fell from a tree and you were there to speak to him? He told me later on that he had not understood a word you said and somehow by speaking you had given him strength and eased his pain a little." Stella nodded and Ella continued, "Do you remember how when you spoke to Apple the centaur, you said that he spoke back?"

Stella nodded.

Ella said, "It has something to do with your people and your family."

Stella only nodded again. She could not feel anything but numbness. So finally Ella stood up and left her adopted daughter to absorb all the words that had been uttered that night.

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Stella continued to lean against the cool, smooth glass on her window, and for some strange reason she felt more sure of herself than she had ever been. It was as if a door had been opened and the opportunities that she could grasp were endless. She was not a daughter of Kyrria; she was something else, and somehow that made her free and certain of herself. She did not know who exactly she was but she knew now that she had been different because she was; she was not a black sheep of the family. She was an entirely different creature.

Studying the pendant on her new necklace, the noticed that when she touched it, there seemed to be a flame that glowed on the inside. Staring at it more carefully, she suddenly felt warmth spread over her and was gripped by the irrepressible urge to draw that flame out of its shell and into herself. With a gasp, she realized that she was glowing with an ethereal light that grew brighter as the seconds flew by.

Stella stared at her glowing hands and looked herself over in the mirror. There seemed to be a difference in her, though what it was, she had yet to identify. Then as if struck by lighting, flashes of light appeared in her head. She saw a castle so exquisite and so delicate and faces—of whom, she did not know. She saw the haunting eyes of a lovely woman, and was stunned as the face of her fairy godmother came into view. _What has Mandy got to do with this?_

She saw the lovely woman picking up a tiny baby girl, saying, "And you, my lovely daughter, will be named Estella Shaphira—"

_My mother! _The lovely woman with those beautiful sad eyes was her mother. _Estella Shaphira_… The meaning of the name suddenly came to her. _Estella Shaphira means 'star sapphire'._ The pendant does suit me. But why did my mother name me so. It was as if she was pronouncing my fate when she named me. Who is she—Where is she?

There was a knock on the door. Quickly drawn back into the real world, she looked up to see Mandy, her fairy godmother, standing in the doorway with something in her hands.

Curtsying a little, Mandy said, "My lady—"

"Mandy, how many times do I have to tell you not to curtsy and not to call me lady? You don't call anyone else 'My lady' except Ella, and you don't even curtsy to her!"

"But my lady, has she not told you? You come from a long line of blue bloods bluer and truer than even the oldest living blue-blooded family in Kyrria."

"Pardon? What did you just say, Mandy. I think I heard you wrong."

"So Ella did not know then."

"Know what, Mandy?"

"That you are Estella Shaphira Flerynnyl, Princess of Thyhierda."

"What? That's a mouthful."

"Yes. I wonder what was going on in your mother's mind when she named you."

"You know my mother?"

"Know her, my lady? All fairies know her! My lady, she is Queen Flerynn of Thyhierda."

"So how do all the fairies know her?"

"Why she's the Queen of the fairies, of course!"

"Then, if she's the Queen that means she's a fairy."

"Yes, my lady."

"That means I'm a fairy?"

"Yes."

"I can't be a fairy!"The panic was apparent in Stella's voice.

"Why not, my lady?"

"I can't do magic. And I'd have to be able to do magic to be a fairy."

"But my lady, you _can _do magic. I've seen it several times, though always you did them unconsciously or when you were in dire need of help."

"That's right," Stella's eyes held a faraway look, as if she was remembering things. "When Nathan fell out of that tree, I took away some of his pain and panic."

"Small magic. Practically unnoticeable to the untrained eye."

"But you have a trained eye?"

"Aye, my lady. After all, I've been doing it for generations. I was godmother to Lady Ella, Lady Eleanor, the Lady Eleanor before her, and several more Eleanors before them."

"That means, you're really old."

"And that means, you're very young my lady, and have great potential."

"Great potential?"

"Yes. Without instruction or awareness of his or her ability to do magic, a normal young fairy just turning eighteen will not be able to do any magic at all. But you, my lady, without the instruction or awareness, have been able to do it quite often for someone who does it unconsciously. The good thing is that you use it only when the situation demands it and have not used it to the destruction of other things. You have great power, my lady, and it has been a danger to you all these years; that is why your mother sent you here. So that you could be safe when you were still too helpless to protect yourself with magic. It seems that even she could not foretell the strengths of your magic. She is very strong but I think you will be stronger, my lady."

"But why here if I have great potential? Why in Kyrria of all places?"

"Because there are many loyal fairies here, my lady. We can watch over you and the Royal Family of Kyrria is the most powerful Friends of Fairies in existence."

"Then how come Ella did not know who my mother was?"

"The identity of the Queen of Thyhierda is only known to the fairies. You see, Thyhierda is inaccessible to mortals. Only those of fairy blood, even just a single drop, can ever go to Thyhierda—of course you must first know how to enter."

"But Mandy, when someone comes for me tomorrow; how do I know it is him—or her?"

"I will be there to tell you, my lady. Now, it is time for bed. We wouldn't want you to wake up on your birthday with rings under your eyes."

Helping Stella into her bed and tucking her in, Mandy suddenly remembered the original purpose of her visit.

Unwrapping the item that she had brought into the room, she handed it to Stella.

"Here, my lady. A cloak made of fairy weaves. It will not get soaked no matter how strong the rain and if you wish it, you can disappear. You only have to put the hood on and will yourself to become invisible."

"Oh, thank you Mandy! You're too kind."

"Anything for you, my lady. I am only too glad to be of some service to you. Now, it is time for you to sleep."

Before closing the door, Mandy turned to Stella and said, "Good night, my lady. And don't forget to keep the cloak somewhere safe. You will need it when you go to Thyhierda."

Stella smiled and her face lit up so beautifully that Mandy thought that she would be the most beautiful child in the family after all. "Thank you, Mandy. Good night."

Mandy smiled, awestruck at the girl's beauty. She closed the door behind her and thought, _Well, Kirby, I won the bet after all. She will turn out just like her mother. I think she'll even be more beautiful and more brilliant than Flerynn. Yes, she'll be great and brilliant. Just hope she'll find the right man. Her poor mother suffered so because of Aliyander. You'd think that just 'coz she's got some of his features, she'd take after him, but she doesn't. Her countenance is too sweet for that. She'll be even more devastatingly beautiful than both of her parents._


	3. Partings

To my dear readers:

Please like this chapter. This story has been the most challenging that I have written so far, so I really do hope you guys love it. And if you guys are really, really good--you know, submitting reviews--I might just write faster and add some surprising/exciting twists. 'Kay?**  
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**Chapter 2: Partings**

Stella yawned for the fifth time that evening as the musicians struck up the tune for another sarabande or waltz or minuet. The only instance when she had not found herself yawning or stifling the urge to yawn was when the orchestra had played a gavotte and her "brother" Nathan had asked her to dance with him. She could not say "no" then, they both loved the gavotte. Ever since Ella had been queen, Stella could remember the musicians playing at least three gavottes. Why had there only been one? And besides, where was Ella—or Char—to ensure that they stuck to tradition? So far, Stella had been asked to dance a total of only five times, even thought the ball was in her honor, and each time she has found herself on the verge of yawning. Those men she had found boring had found her lifeless and reflected that Princess Lela, Stella's "older sister", was a better catch—beautiful, graceful, pleasant, and funny.

Stella felt like yawning once more then nearly fell off her seat instead when the musicians suddenly started playing a gavotte. She saw Ella and Char approaching and grinned. Finally! People she could converse with. But her grin was short-lived when she notices a man standing behind the queen. What now?! If it was a suitor…Stella saw the roguish grin and the slight twinkling of the eyes…Well he didn't look so terrible but better to be wary.

Ella spoke. "Stella, dear. This is Lord Tristan of the Great Golden Wood. He's your long-lost distant cousin."

Stella's expressionless eyes turned to the young man still standing slightly behind her adoptive mother. "You are my cousin? How so?"

Tristan thought about it for a while, then answered, "Well, we're _very_ distant cousins. The last time our families were closely related was about 1000 years ago. And even then my ancestor was your ancestor's second cousin twice removed."

Stella's expression did not change, but Tristan still went on as if he did not notice. "So right now, we are _very_ distant cousins—my mother's father's father's mother's father's mother's mother's—well anyway, to make it less complicated, my great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandmother was your great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandfather's younger sister."

Stella did not even blink, all she said was. "Oh."

Tristan shifted nervously. Why was the princess like this? She was supposed to be lovely and charming like Queen Flerynn. Maybe that was why so many men flocked around the other princess, who was indeed very beautiful, even when it was Princess Estella's birthday celebration.

Trying to break Stella's silence, Tristan held out his hand and asked her to dance. Stella just stared at him without a change in expression. Tristan was starting to feel very uncomfortable in the silence when Ella cut in. "Stella, why don't you dance with Lord Tristan?"

Stella promptly looked at her adoptive mother. It was as if she saw something assuring in Ella's eyes because her face visibly thawed and she looked more approachable. Delicately placing her hand in Tristan's still-outstretched one she answered him flirtatiously, with a bat of her long lashes, "Of course I'll dance with you, _dear_ cousin Tristan." Tristan felt like wincing when he saw her bat her lashes; but just then, Stella smiled and he nearly tripped over his own feet. She was astonishingly lovely like the fairy queen—only she was even more lovely—and her facial features were just starting to sharpen. Stella smiled the whole time and Tristan started to feel the hot, envious glares of all the young men. He danced with Stella thrice then he pulled her out into the garden. She looked at him quizzically.

Allowing the cool air to clear his mind of thoughts of the ball, he said, "Your Highness, we must leave for Thyhierda tonight. Your mother is eager to see you."

Stella's mile wavered, "Just as I thought, you are just an escort. Not a long-lost cousin after all."

"Your Highness, your mother did send me, but everything I said a while ago about how we are related and my title is true."

"Ah…"

"We must leave soon. I have two men waiting for us outside the palace gates."

Without hesitation, Stella said, "I've packed already. Wait here. Let me get a few things." And she vanished. Tristan blinked. _Who had taught her to do that?_

* * *

Mandy nearly jumped out of her skin when Stella popped up in front of her from out of nowhere with the fairy-made cape draped on her shoulders and a full satchel slung over one.

"Mandy, he's here. I want you to see him and tell me if he's the one my mother really sent."

Mandy sighed, "So soon, my lady. Wait. Let me get my shawl."

They disappeared just as suddenly as Stella had arrived.

Mandy stopped talking when she saw Tristan and she curtsied deeply, "My lord, you honor me and Kyrria with your presence."

Grinning widely, Tristan said, "Great-aunt Mandy, I never thought I'd find you here. You've been gone from Thyhierda long enough." He enveloped the old fairy in a hug.

"Mandy, you're his great-aunt?" The astonishment in Stella's voice was unmistakeable.

"Well, my lady, I am actually his great-great-great-grand-aunt. The whole family always thought I was eccentric and when Aliy—when Thyhierda fell upon troubled times, I had to hide because I promised your mother that I would take care of you if she could not do so herself. So your mother sent you to me here and did not inform anyone else of my whereabouts to keep you safe."

Stella did not miss Mandy's slip and stored it away for future use.

"So you trust him, Mandy?"

"Yes. With my life."

Stella nodded. "Good. We should be going then."

Putting her arms around Mandy, to Tristan's great astonishment and chagrin, Stella began to cry. Mandy did the same thing to the young woman and poor Tristan was caught in the middle of it.

Drying her tears with an apron, Mandy offered Stella a clean handkerchief. "Here, my lady."

Taking the offered item, Stella dabbed at her face. "I will miss you very much Mandy. Please tell Ella and Char goodbye. Tell them that…we'll see each other again?" She looked at Tristan inquiringly. At his nod, she confirmed, "Tell them we will see each other again."

As Stella followed Tristan out of the palace, Mandy waved and held back her tears. She would not cry; Flerynn's daughter never cried, so she—Mandy, fairy godmother to ladies, queens, then princesses—would not.


	4. A Change of Plan

**Chapter 3:**** A Change of Plan**

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Four—none of them human—rode their horses through Kyrria on the evening of Princess Estella's disappearance. Queen Ella claimed that the princess had not disappeared but instead was visiting with some distant relatives in a far-off place. Everyone skeptically believes her story except for the King and the Crown Prince. Those two knew that Stella was more than she had seemed and they, especially prince Nathan, had an odd fondness for her. No one else truly believed Ella, and she was a little right and also a little wrong.

You see, Stella did not immediately visit her relatives. It was not as easy as it seemed to get into Thyhierda.

* * *

The wind continued to blow in the night, giving assistance to riders who tried to muffle the sounds of horse hooves and people shifting in their saddles. It blew a constant rhythm and moved the leaves to rustle and the animals to scurry into their burrows. Then suddenly, as if by fate or destiny or simply pure coincidence, the wind stopped its moaning. The riders and horses no longer needed the wind for the forest had come upon them. Few entered the forest and even fewer came out.

The human eye is a strange thing for it sees little, but it can see one thing that no other eye can see—illusion.

The few that returned to tell the tale spoke of the magnificent city they had seen. The Diamond City, they called it. It had called to them and many had followed it, wandering for years without reaching it—getting so close yet staying so far.

The fairies had cast an illusion around the portal closest to the king or queen. No human could ever know this, and many followed the Diamond City as it led them to an endless dance through the forest until they ceased to be.

But fairies eyes do not hold with being fooled by their own creations. The riders saw these pictures but recognized them in their true form; passing the illusion by without second thought.

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Tristan slowed his horse to a canter as he drew near to his destination with Princess Estella and his two men-at-arms. Stopping at the place where the portal had opened, he placed the rubies in the right spots and said the word of opening.

The portal did not open with a blast or a shower of sparks. It slid open quietly and carefully. To the human eye, nothing was wrong, but as the portal slid open, Stella felt cold and Tristan grew pale. Something reached out to grab them but the two men-at-arms pushed the lord and lady away and vanished.

Tristan tried to close the gates with the word of closing but it would not work, so he did the only thing he could think of at the moment; he smashed the hilt of his sword into the rubies, breaking them in half. The portal immediately disappeared.

Shaking herself from the daze that she had felt, Stella rubbed her arms and shivered.

She asked Tristan, "What was that?"

Tristan was still very pale and he said only one word. "Aliyander."

Stella was confused. "What?"

Tristan corrected, "Who."

Stella asked again, "What does he have to do with this?"

Tristan turned his horse. "I'll explain later. Quickly! We must not linger. We must find a portal through which we can enter."

Stella said no more and merely followed him. They did not look back and refused to think of the two men who had saved them. It was not the time to shed their tears. Tears were for another day—a day when they need not hasten.

* * *

Before Stella knew it, she and Tristan were back in Frell, the capital of Kyrria, and he was telling her to dismount. She looked at the sign on the inn that they were entering and kept her hood on. It would do no good to show her face in a respectable inn, where someone might recognize her. She handed her horse to a groom, who took Tristan's horse as well.

She followed Tristan in and kept her silence as he asked for two rooms.

They sat down at a table and Stella finally asked him, "What do we do now?"

He answered her absentmindedly, "I am thinking."

Finally, after a long silence, he said, "There is an open portal in the palace, we can use that one but it would mean weeks of travel to the palace at Thyhierda. The portal opens at quite a distance from your mother."

Stella asked, "Won't Aliyander suspect?"

Tristan quickly answered, "He won't. He thinks I always do the unpredictable when provoked. He knows that for me the most logical place to go to would be through the palace portal because it is easier for me to travel short distances out of Thyhierda and long distances in Thyhierda; but when we last came face to face, I always did the unpredictable, so he will look for a spot that he will normally ignore. The palace portal is too obvious."

Stella's face was expressionless. "Do we have any other choice?"

Tristan looked grim. "That's what I'm afraid of. You must know that the journey may be dangerous for one who has just come to the realization of her power—"

"I can do it."

Tristan was skeptical.

Stella insisted, "I can learn to protect myself, but you must teach me."

Tristan sighed. The queen would have his head for this. "Very well. We begin tomorrow. It will be too late to start tonight."

They both stood up and Tristan led Stella to her room. Bowing, he murmured quietly, "Sleep well tonight, Your Highness. We leave tomorrow. You will need your energy for traveling and magic."

Stella felt herself reply, and Tristan gave her a strange look, but she was too sleepy to react to it. She entered her room, somehow got onto the bed, and promptly fell asleep with her boots on.

* * *

"Hey Drew! Hurry up, man! It's cold out here." The stable groom yelled into the kitchens. It was his partner's turn to stay with the horses.

Someone yelled out, "Comin' Geoff!"

Geoff shivered as a cold wind blew past him again. "Hurry man! I've been out here all night!"

Drew finally exited the kitchens to give his friend a reprieve. "It's not so cold Geoff."

Geoff grumbled, "Well it's not so cold now. I don't know why, but one moment it was freezing and the next it was warm again."

Drew gave Geoff a pat on the back, "You're just tired, man. Go in and get yourself one of Cook's pies."

Geoff shivered, remembering the cold wind. "I think I will, Drew. I think I will."

After Geoff was gone, the wind blew against Drew once, startling him, then flew away laughing. The wind then flew upward where it blew against a window pane; but no one heard, for the room's occupant was sleeping soundly, with a small blue light emanating from her chest.

* * *

Ha! I have finally updated. And to add to the joys of this day. I put two more chapters in. 


	5. The Wind in the Meadow

**Chapter 4:**** The Wind in the Meadow**

* * *

Stella woke up at the crack of dawn to a knock on her door. Quickly dressing she opened it slightly and saw Tristan with his hair ruffled, but with his clothes surprisingly clean and pressed smooth.

Tristan smiled groggily, "Wow! You're a light sleeper. One knock and you're awake."

Stella laughed, "Good morning, sleepyhead."

Tristan grumbled and crossed his arms. "Someone thinks she's so wonderful just because she's a morning person." Then he smiled at Stella's horror-struck expression. "Didn't think I could pull that off, your Highness? I can, you know. I'm only 24, after all."

Stella could not believe her ears. He acted so old most of the time, and he was just in his 24th year! Well, with fairies, one can never know. He did look young, but magic can easily make a fairy look sixteen when he is sixty.

"You-you're only 24?" Stella's voice came out in a squeak. Clearing her throat, "How can that be? Your power is great already! You'd have to be—what?—thirty before you'd even be that strong."

Tristan chuckled. "Ah, but you forget, Your Highness. You are very strong as well and at the age of eighteen. You are younger than I, but with enough training, you'd be able to best me in a magic duel in maybe just a year. Considering your case, I'd say I'm not as special as you are."

Stella shook her head. "How can I be stronger than you with less practice and how can you be stronger than ordinary fairies? That would mean that an anomaly in the family genetics is possible, but what are the chances that such could happen to people born not many years after one another?"

Tristan shrugged, "I believe we may never know." Taking Stella by the arm, he led her to the stables. "Come. It is time to go before the wind starts to blow once more."

Stella's eyebrow rose. "The wind?"

Tristan did not answer.

* * *

Through the wide arch-shaped windows, everyone in the palace of Thyhierda could see the golden sun as it sank below the horizon. Whispers filled the Great Audience Hall in the palace of Thyhierda as the queen entered with her ladies-in-waiting.

One lord murmured to another that young Tristan of the Great Golden Wood had not yet returned with the long-awaited princess. They were supposed to be there before the sun set on the day after her eighteenth birthday. What had gone wrong?

The courtiers fell silent when the queen spoke. "There will be a delay to my daughter's arrival. It seems that the portal through which they were supposed to enter was tampered with."

A brave lord deigned to inquire. "But, Your Majesty, when will they arrive?"

The queen looked at him through expressionless orbs. "They will be here when they get here. Patience, Lord Byron Heronyn. We have waited eighteen years. Surely we can wait a few more days or weeks."

Lord Byron bowed his head. "Of course, Your Majesty."

* * *

Stella gasped at the door that had suddenly appeared when Tristan muttered a few words in Thyhierdan. She had roughly translated it into Kyrrian as "Reveal what is hidden to all."

"Come, Your Highness." Stella took the hand he offered and gently pulled her horse forward into the doorway. It did not look as if the horses would fit but the doorway seemed to grow to accommodate them.

They stood on field of flowers Stella had never seen before. She looked back and saw that the doorway had vanished behind them.

She was brought to attention when she heard the unmistakable horror in Tristan's voice. "Oh no! By the name of Theron, no!" He turned to Stella.

"Your Highness, quickly. Follow me. We must ride out of this meadow soon or we will succumb to its spell."

As they were galloping, Stella asked, "Spell?"

"This if the Field of Kyans. Don't be fooled by those pretty flowers. The kyan has the ability to make someone sleep forever unless that person is given the antidote, which can only be made from the juice of the fireroot. The fireroot is nearly extinct and very hard to find. Do not smell anything or breathe if you can help it, Your Highness."

Stella was feeling quite woozy by then. Fighting the feeling of walking on air, she held her breath and tried to breathe as little as possible. The end of the field was still a distance away; they might not make it! She felt a breeze tugging on her clothes. It grew stronger and somehow her mind cleared up as well. It was blowing the scent of the kyans away!

_Oh please! Keep blowing._ Stella begged, spurring her horse onward. She drew alongside Tristan who, instead of looking anxious or relieved, was glaring at something in the distance. The wind pulled at her clothes drawing her attention to the end of the field of kyans. _Finally, salvation._

Tristan was glaring at someone she could now see but did not recognize. The man stood a short distance away from the field of kyans. The wind blew against his cloak causing it to flap in the wind, but his hair was somehow untouched and he looked at the two riders with slight amusement.

Tristan and Stella finally reached the end of the Field of Kyans. Stella slid off her horse to catch up with Tristan who was already on foot and charging towards the unknown man with a look of intense irritation fully evident on his face.

Stella stopped beside Tristan who stood still a foot away from the stranger. The stranger smiled with amusement still, but his voice was hard. "How many times have I told you to stay away from doing something foolish, boy! What would you have done if I had not been here to help you? You have been trying to hide her from me."

"Just because I'm helping you does _not_ mean I trust you fully. You haven't told me everything, you know. You said I'd know the whole story when she would!"

"And now you will find out. Keep quiet, boy! Have patience. I must start at the beginning."

"And that would be?" Tristan crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow.

The man ignored Tristan and turned to Stella. He gently took her hand and smiled warmly, the ends of his eyes crinkling happily. Stella wondered what had happened to the cold man who spoke to Tristan.

"I have heard quite a bit about you, my dear. Princess Estella Shaphira Flerynnyl Aliyandryl of Thyhierda, I am pleased to finally meet you."

* * *

There. I have finally updated two chapters. Enjoy! 


	6. Master of the Winds

**Chapter 5:**** Master of the Winds**

The wind blew at the edge of the Field of Kyans. Three stood within this wind, ignoring its cries. Their clothes flapped in the breeze but they paid no attention to this. Their attention was set on more important matters.

"Who are you and why did you call me what you did? I've never heard of the Aliyandryl part," Stella said.

"You do not know?" Aliyander was stunned. "You honestly do not know? Well, how could you know? You were after all raised away from home for a long time. Did you notice that Flerynnyl and Aliyandryl both have the same last two letters? 'yl' is added to the end of one's parents names. The mother's name with 'yl' then the father's name with 'yl'. That is if one is female. If one is male, the 'yl' would be replaced by 'yn'."

"Huh?"

"The rules are quite complicated. I don't have all the time now."

"Alright. Then tell me who you are."

The stranger hesitated. Tristan angrily said, "You better tell her now. We're here already, so you might as well tell her sooner than later."

The man nodded and sighed. "You are right, my boy. Estella, I am the Master of the Winds, but others call me Aliyander."

Stella shrank back immediately. "Tristan, why is he here? He tried to get us didn't he?"

Aliyander frowned. "What have you told her, boy?! What have you told my daughter that she should fear me so?!"

"I told her nothing," Tristan defended, "I only—"

Aliyander interrupted, "convinced her that I was out to kill you. Yes I know you kept her away from me and made her believe that I was an evil being."

"Well it wouldn't have to be this way if you hadn't agreed to be the Master of the Winds," Tristan retorted.

Aliyander's eyes glittered in anger. His hands clenched and he quivered with barely-suppressed rage. "You think I had a choice?" His voice boomed and Tristan winced but Aliyander went on in a voice full of pent-up emotion. "I did not have a choice. Flerynn was dying! I couldn't just let my wife die!"

"Flerynn?" Stella asked. "She is my mother. But if she is your wife, then—" she could not continue.

"Yes, I just happen to be your father." Aliyander smiled and Stella saw how he might have won her mother over at the start.

"But you can't be," Stella insisted, "Everyone who knows about you acts as if you're poison—as if you're a traitor!" Her eyes widened. "You are a traitor aren't you? The two men-at-arms—you—you—Stay away from me!"

Aliyander's smile disappeared and he looked sad and hurt. He quietly said, "People call me a traitor and may think I am one but I am not." Tristan made a disbelieving sound but Aliyander pretended not to notice. "I only made sacrifices to protect my wife, the sovereign of this land. Is it not the act of a loyal man to protect his wife and queen?"

Stella still stared at him accusingly with an unabating heat in her eyes.

"Do not look at me that way, Estella. You must know that I have done nothing wrong against my people. Why else would Tristan help me despite his apparent dislike for me?"

Stella looked at Tristan with disbelief clearly written upon her face. "You're helping him?" she asked incredulously.

Tristan glared at Aliyander and sighed in defeat. "Yes. But know that I am loyal to your mother and I am only doing this because it may save this realm and—through that—her."

Stella backed away from both men. "I don't understand. Who are you? What do you want from me?"

"We only want to talk, Estella," Aliyander said, "And if possible come to some sort of agreement."

Stella continued to step back from the two men.

"Please Stella," Tristan pleaded. He had dropped his formal speech and was down on his knees pleading—as if for mercy, the reprieve from the scaffold.

Stella hesitated then did something that Mandy could never cure her of. "Fine," she said, letting her curiosity get the better of her, "I am curious as to what this is, so this _better_ be good."

Tristan nodded and stood and Aliyander sighed in relief. Stella was surprised to realize that he had been tense before.

Aliyander spoke carefully.

"I will tell you everything from the start. Be patient. You will understand everything as my story goes on."

Stella frowned. _How had he known she was impatient to know the end already?_

Aliyander smiled slightly as if he knew what she was thinking.

"There are three powerful channels of magic—what we call channels of flame—in Thyhierda. This I think you know about. The Crystal Flame, the Heart of Fire, and the Flame of Theron. When one of these objects is passed on to someone else, there is a gathering of Flame Masters to welcome this new addition to their group. Flame Masters include anyone who has ever drawn magic from one of the three channels I spoke of.

"I was in my 32nd year when the Flame of Theron was passed on to another. Flerynn was the only child of the Queen Beryl and had been able to become a Flame Master two years after I had become one myself. She was 30 that year. She had become a Flame Master at the same age as I had. We were relatively equal in strength when it came to magic…"

* * *

Sorry for the short chapter. Lately, it seems that I have been running out of time to write long chapters. But hold on. The next chapter is sure to be good. I've already thought of it and hope you will like it. Hope you like this chapter as well. 

Also, sorry for all the cliffhangers but old habits die hard and this habit of keeping people on the edge of their seats happens to be one of the oldest ones. So please tell me if you like it.

To all my reviewers, thanks for your insights, comments, etc. They have been and are still welcome.

* * *


	7. From the Beginning

Yay! I finally updated! Read then Review, my dear readers.

* * *

**Chapter 6:**** From the Beginning**

Aliyander impatiently adjusted his formal robes that he had been required to wear—along with all the other Flame Masters in attendance—to the special occasion set by the Flame Council to welcome the newest addition to their group. As a newer Flame Master he was required to be present much earlier than many others. And only a few had already arrived. It was going to be a long wait.

And he was getting quite uncomfortable in his golden robes. They certainly were not made to be worn comfortably for long periods of time.

"If it had been anyone else, those blasted old coots wouldn't have bothered with so much ceremony," he muttered.

Hector, a childhood friend who was also heir to the Eastern Lands—the lands of the lord of the east—laughed at his friend's statement and leaned closer to Aliyander to mutter, "Only the new Flame Master isn't just anyone else. Relax. This will be practice for the future coronation of the future queen. Haven't you met Princess Flerynn before?"

Aliyander snorted and said, "Of course. I remember now. It was 30 years ago when she had been born."

Hector nodded absently then blinked. "You remember? I was only in my 7th year myself and I remembered not a whit about that meeting except for all the bowing and kneeling that I was made to do as a future _great_ lord. It was a very unmemorab—"

"Of course I don't remember, Hector," Aliyander interrupted impatiently, "I was only in my 2nd year then."

Hector stuttered, "But you said—"

"I was being sarcastic," Aliyander interrupted once more. _Sometimes I wonder whether Hector does this on purpose or not. There are times when he seems to be very observant and other times when I'm not sure whether he's even fully awake to think straight_, he thought.

Hector shifted his feet in embarrassment. "Sorry. I do get carried away sometimes."

"Never mind," Aliyander mumbled, "But to answer your first question, I have not met her besides that first time where I do not recall anything at all. Have you? Met her I mean."

Hector smiled and made an exaggerated movement with his hand. "Of course, I have. Her mother is my sister's godmother after all. You should meet her. The princess I mean. She's the loveliest creature I've ever laid my eyes on. Lovelier than even the queen—and that is saying a lot, my friend. She's got light wavy hair that brushes past her shoulders, clear, sparkling blue eyes, rosy cheeks, and a smile to win over the most stubborn man in Thyhierda. And did I mention her figure—I mean, lucky the man who gets her. She is said to be one of the most powerful fairies in many many generations, just like you. I wonder if she is better. That would be a sight to see. Someone finally better than young Aliyander—and a woman no less!"

Aliyander finally tried to rid himself of his friend's annoying chatter sticking into Hector's mouth a wad of cloth from his robes.

"That is enough, Hector. I don't think I can hear any more about our oh-so-wonderful princess."

Hector pulled out the golden fabric stuck in his mouth and grinned. "Oh my! Dear little cousin Aliyander cannot stand it that a girl is better than him."

Aliyander glared icily enough at Hector to have frozen him on the spot if glares were blizzards, but only said softly, "I think I heard you wrong when you said you were 5 years my senior. You are definitely more than 20 years younger than me."

Hector smiled jovially and gave Aliyander a friendly pat on the back as if his friend had not directed only a few moments before a look that could have killed in the world where wishes easily became reality. "Ah, dear cousin. I am indeed younger by more than 20 years at heart. It is a good thing to be young at heart. It does wonders for one's looks."

Aliyander gave his distant cousin, who was indeed a fifth cousin twice removed, another frosty glare (also one that would have been deadly in the world where wishes easily became reality). "Thank you but no thank you, _cousin_. The ladies would think I was a queer duck like you if I ever do try that." He smirked when Hector's eyes flew wide open in alarm.

Hector tightly clutched Aliyander's arm. "They think I am like that?"

Aliyander grinned boyishly all of a sudden. "Ah how queer a duck can one be if one is so gullible."

Hector released his friend's arm and started to grumble unintelligibly.

Aliyander laughed and placed his discarded golden robes on Hector's arm, leaving him dressed in a fashionable white tunic with intricate silver embroidery over sleek black breeches. Then he wandered off to look for something to quench his slightly parched throat. He spied a curtain swishing behind a servant bearing away several empty chalices. Smiling in relief, he followed the departing man into what he supposed were servants' exits to the kitchens or other such rooms. He picked up his pace so as not to lose sight of the servant who was swiftly winding through the many passages.

Even if his eyes could not find the food for themselves, his nose was able to pick up a trail of the scent that wafted from what he supposed were the kitchens.

As soon as he stepped out from the passageway, his senses were assaulted by the noise and the smells of the place. Gingerly picking his way among the servants who seemed to not see him, he eventually found his way to a table bearing trays filled with cups of different things to drink. He chose one and lifted it up to his mouth but before he could take a sip there was a crash of metal. He whirled around to see a servant on his knees surrounded by piles of pots and pans and staring not at him but at the cup he held.

"Theron," the man muttered. He was pale as a sheet. Aliyander noticed that the other sounds in the kitchen had stopped as well and more people were staring at him. The only sound to meet his ears was a loud tinkling laugh, music to anyone's ears. He looked at the source of the sound and saw wavy pale blond hair cascading down the back of a beautifully shaped woman whose back was still turned so he could not identify her age or her identity. The woman must have realized that there was a reason the kitchens were suddenly so silent so she turned towards the cause of everyone else's stares.

As soon as the woman turned, Aliyander felt his breath catch. She was just about the loveliest creature he had laid his eyes on. She looked to be only a few years younger than him.

"Lois Flamebringer," he muttered. The beautiful lady—she was a lady for sure, with the way she held herself—only scowled at him and said, "If you wish to bother people by making them see cups moving into the air of their own volition, you better do it in the Flame Council Room. I'm sure the Flame Masters will be fascinated with your skill at turning your illusion spell backwards so that no creature at all would be able see you." The kitchen quickly bustled back to life. No one looked in his direction or in the direction of the lovely lady glaring at him.

Aliyander _very _belatedly realized that he had wrapped himself in a cloaking spell he had discovered himself. It was a boyhood habit of his to sneak around unseen in the kitchens. Only he had done it this time without thinking and out in the open. He sheepishly released the cloaking spell and offered a penitent smile to the lovely lady sitting before him. "I am sorry, my lady. I did not realize that I was using the spell. It is incredibly difficult to rid myself of old habits even after over ten years."

The lady just said, "Hmph!"

Aliyander bravely went on, hopefully trying to appease himself with this delightfully lovely creature. "How did you know I was there, not just some spell to move the cup?"

The lady smiled mysteriously, "Maybe if you play your cards right, I _will_ tell you."

Aliyander grinned boyishly at her and gave his best pleading, plaintive look. The lady laughed and colored delicately—making her impossibly lovelier that she already was. "Very well, I shall tell you."

Aliyander stepped closer to her and smiled winningly, leaning close enough to hear her if she whispered. The lady turned a deeper shade of pink but batted her eyelashes at him, causing Aliyander's stomach to feel butterflies. She leaned close enough to whisper into his ear and Aliyander felt his ears involuntarily turn red. _If you are like this already, how will you act if she agrees to dance with you_, a part of his mind said to him. Aliyander could feel her breath lightly tickling his ear and she whispered, "Maybe next time. If you behave."

"YOUR HIGHNESS!" Aliyander and the lady turned to look at a woman he recognized as one of Queen Beryl's ladies-in-waiting. The lovely lady suddenly stood up. "Oh, Larril! I forgot the time!" She rushed over to Larril and left without sparing a glance at Aliyander who just stood there in confusion.

A cook shook his head and said, "A good lass, the princess. She will make a good queen one day if she can keep herself away from daydreaming and talking to us downstairs folk all day—errr—my lord."

"The princess?" Aliyander was bewildered then it all hit him. All the things Hector had told him about her, the way she carried herself, the way the servants treated her, Lady Larril screeching 'Your Highness'.

The cook looked at him in disbelief. "You just spoke comfortable like with Her Highness and you didn't know who she was? Meaning no disrespect of course, your lordship."

"Isn't it obvious?!" Aliyander was furious with himself. _By flaming Theron's name! I just flirted with the princess and didn't know it. How am I going to explain myself to her or to Hector if he finds out? I've made a burning fool out of myself! I'm supposed to dislike her and the first time I meet her, I act as if I want to court her! Stupid. Stupid. Stupid._

* * *

"Your Highness, we must hasten. The Flame Council will be waiting. Your mother will not be pleased if she hears that you were late for such an important ceremony," Larril quietly chastised Princess Flerynn. 

"I know, Lady Larril. I am sorry for worrying you so. I will try to remember next time." Flerynn tried to appear chastised. Larril did not seem convinced.

The lady-in-waiting left her in her rooms to change. Flerynn picked up her new golden robes, the official dress of the Flame Masters, and smiled then set them back down, turning to the other clothes that had been laid out on the bed. Choosing one of the gowns on the bed she called for a maid who quickly entered to help her with the buttons and ties on the dress.

"Leave my hair down please, Lory."

"Yes, Your Highness." The maid stepped back as she finished fixing up her mistress. "Oh my! You look lovely Princess."

Flerynn nodded her thanks and sent the maid off. She donned her golden robes and studied herself in the tall mirror. She saw a stunning and fair young maiden. She was tall and slender with a face anyone would love. She sighed. _If only I had been uglier and not royal. I'd be able to figure out more easily who liked me for me. Like that young lord I spoke to in the kitchens…I wonder who he is. I bet he's not that much older than me. What did he think of me? What am I thinking?! He was most likely trying to flirt his way into my good graces. Surely someone like him would have a wife or—or—a lover and a mistress here or there already. He was just too good-looking...but he blushed when I spoke in his ear…_ Flerynn remembered that the lord's ears had turned red when she drew near. She sighed again. _Best not be thinking about him. I probably won't see him again in quite a long time. Why do we fairies have to live so long?! If we didn't, we'd arrange everything so that it would not take decades just to get together. I'll probably see him somewhere several decades from now…_

Aliyander finally found his way back into the Flame Council Room and rushed over to Hector, who still held his golden robes.

"Where have you been?" Hector asked.

"I went to get a drink," Aliyander answered curtly.

"What took you so long then? The princess will be here soon!" Hector looked at Aliyander in surprise when the younger fairy grew pale then flushed lightly.

"Ah…I see you have met her then? So what do you think of Her Royal Highness now? Lovely thing isn't she?"

"I have met her. She is as fair as you said," Aliyander answered still curt.

"But what do you think of her?" Hector continued to interrogate him.

Finally losing his patience, Aliyander burst out, "Why do you want to know so badly? I do not like her, alright."

"And there is where you betray yourself, dear little cousin. Denial is often very common among younger folks, especially when it comes to love."

"Younger folks? Cousin, you are not a decade older than I and yet you say that with the scorn of an elderly man who has seen too much in his day. You aren't as much of a lady charmer as I am, you know."

"I do know that but it's true. You, Aliyander, are in the state of denial. From the way you reacted when I mentioned the princess, there has to be some attraction there."

"Alright, so what if I find her attractive? She is probably the most beautiful woman in Thyhierda. It would be odd if I did not find her attractive."

"Yes, but you see you turned pale before you blushed. You did not want me to find out about your meeting with her because you knew I would tease you about her and you do not like my teasing when you are serious about something."

"I am serious about not liking her. She is a threat."

"A threat?" Hector said in mock horror. "In what way is our future queen a threat to you, or anyone, for that matter?"

"She is how old? 30 years. Just like I was when I first became a Flame Master. I've worked hard for years just to be recognized as the strongest Flame Master in millennia and what do I get for it? Nothing. She turns 30, channels, then gets a ceremony held in honor of her 'greatness', which should be just about as great as mine, but no one notices that because she is some royal fairy?!"

Hector shook his head and said, "You have a good reason there, cousin. However, you are forgetting something. This is not just a ceremony to welcome her among us old and newer Flame Masters. It's the ceremony where she vows to learn to control the winds. Currently the Master of the Winds is the princess's great uncle, Lord Tyrel; but one never knows when he could just pass on to the Land of Eternal Fire. It's a risky thing. Lord Tyrel's the only Master of the Winds in centuries who has not killed himself after assuming the position. But that is not to say that he is even just a little sane. Have you ever met him, Aliyander?"

Aliyander shook his head.

Hector smiled mirthlessly, "You should go see him. It would enlighten you somewhat as to why we hold such ceremonies in honor of our monarchs as they are being recognized for their Mastery of the Flame."

Aliyander shivered involuntarily. He had heard stories about the princess's great uncle. The man was said to be insane and was kept locked up in a tower with four windows—one to the north, one to the south, one to the east, and another to the west—that were barred to keep him from jumping off the tower. He had been banished there by his late sister, the Queen Esmaryl, to keep him from doing any harm to anyone, whether by accident or not.

All of the Masters of the Wind so far had either killed themselves or gone crazy, thus the role was usually taken by a sibling of the monarch and not the monarch himself. But whenever the monarch was an only child, he would have to become the Master of the Winds. It had always been done that way, except for the time of Lois the Flamebringer, one of the greatest Flame Masters of all time.

Lois the Flamebringer had been the Great Lady of the West, and the king then had been Herun the Brave. Herun had been an only child and was a weak Flame Master. Becoming Master of the Winds would have killed him, so Lois took his place though it had never been done before and no one was certain how it would end for her. Surprisingly, she did not kill herself or go mad, but she aged quickly and passed on the Land of Eternal Fire quite young. Some said that it was her love for the king that had brought her to make such a sacrifice. Others said that she had been driven to do it because she wanted to fulfill a prophecy that "one would come keeping the Masters of the Wind from death."

Whether she had done it for love or pride, she—for all her greatness—could not stop the curse upon all Flame Masters. Yes, there was a curse. Long ago after the great-grandson of Theron (the first king) had died, Serynn, the very first queen of Thyhierda was crowned. According to legend, she had been the most beautiful creature to walk the land since Thyhierda was formed. Many sought after her hand in marriage for she had both beauty and power. And one of these was a man named Nomon. He was a great Flame Master and fell completely in love with the queen, but she did not love him back for she already loved another. When she married the man she loved, Nomon in his rage and hurt cast a curse on her family. The curse caused the winds, which had until then been constant and gentle, to lose control; and the only way to solve this problem was to give someone the authority to keep them under control. Queen Serynn took responsibility for this and became the first Master of the Winds but she lost her sanity; and on the night before she died she made a prophecy that "one would come to keep the Masters of the Wind from death."

Aliyander shivered again. It was a terrifying to think about, and he truly felt sorry now for the princess who was an only child and would have to take responsibility for the unruly winds unless someone stepped up to be her substitute. Whoever did that was either lovesick or crazy—or both. He pitied the man who would do it.

* * *

­­­­­­­­­"As you can see, I stepped up to be her substitute. I was not just lovesick or crazy. I was both." Aliyander said to Stella and Tristan. "At the start, I tried to hate her. Unfortunately, Flerynn was perfect. She was not only powerful but also kind and wise. It did not help either that she was so beautiful. After three years of supposed enmity between us, I finally gave up on trying to hate her. I was in love with her. I loved her so badly that I was often afraid that others would notice and ridicule me for it. I was also afraid that she would see it and reject me. 

"It was difficult for me as well when I realized that if I somehow managed to marry her I would have to pass on the Mastery of the Heart of Fire to another. It is not so easy to pass on the Mastery of a medium to another because once the Mastery of the object has been passed on only the new Flame Master would be able to draw magic from it. So I kept my feelings to myself and hoped that fate would deem us fit to be together. I guess fate looked upon me with favor because we were married 17 years later. I had decided to try my luck two years earlier and was surprised to learn that she had loved me since the first time we met. She just never said anything or showed me how she felt because during the first three years of our acquaintance she thought I disliked her, and during the succeeding years—when I had stopped trying to hate her—she thought I was indifferent.

"I thought I could not be happier then we found out that Flerynn was with child. It felt like nothing could mar my happiness. Then Lord Tyrel passed on. Queen Beryl tried to take on the role of Master of the Winds. After only a month, she threw herself off a castle tower. We were struck with grief, especially Flerynn. Her family had passed on within weeks of one another.

"What worried me the most was that Flerynn was next in line to become Master of the Winds. I could not bear to see her die. She was in too much grief to be strong and our unborn child might die. So—"

"So you became Master of the Winds," Stella interrupted.

Aliyander nodded. "I thought I would go crazy as soon as I took the position. I asked Flerynn to help me. She gladly gave me her power so that I had enough strength to fight it. I could barely control the winds and was afraid that I would hurt her so I arranged for my 'death'." Aliyander fell silent.

"That is the whole story?" Stella asked.

Aliyander nodded mutely.

"Ah…but I don't understand one thing. Why are you considered a traitor if you arranged for your death just to protect my mother?"

"I believe that is where I come in," Tristan said.

"Huh?"

"I was the Flame Master of the Heart of Fire at that time, you see," Tristan explained, "so your father came to see me. He told me to pretend that when I learned he was doing everything to take the queen's power I killed him. I was able to strengthen my claim when I spoke to the queen because everyone could remember distinctly the time when Lord Aliyander hated Princess Flerynn. They remembered their surprise when he suddenly declared his love for her and asked her to marry him. They concluded that I was right and that it had all been part of his plan."

"But why would _Father_," Aliyander smiled at this, "turn to you for help? Why did he trust you so much?"

"Because he is my uncle and he raised me."

Stella stared at Tristan in shock. "He—he's your uncle. The—then I'm your…"

"Yes, cousin. Now you see that when I told the people in Kyrria that I'm your cousin, I was telling the truth."

"But why did Father take care of you when you were growing up?"

Tristan answered, "My father couldn't stand to have me around. My mother did not survive when I was born."

"Oh my," Stella gasped, "I'm sorry."

"It's alright. I don't really mind…cousin."

They fell silent just like Aliyander.

Then Stella asked, "So what do you need me for?"

Aliyander answered wearily, "I am losing strength. I may need to pass on the Mastery of the Winds to someone else soon. If the winds break free, it may take years again to put them back under some semblance of order."

"So you need me to become the new Master of the Winds," Stella said emotionlessly.

"No. I do not need you to become Master of the Winds. I can ask Tristan to do it, but I need your approval first. He has said he is willing." Stella turned to look at Tristan. He returned her gaze without wavering.

"What must one do to keep the winds under control?" Stella asked her father.

"Nothing. Only prove the force of your will, the courage of your heart, and the strength of your power. The winds do not bow to anyone unworthy. You need not make a decision immediately. I can wait a few months more, but I think you must hurry to meet your mother. She is waiting."


	8. Carrying the Torch

I have finally updated a lot. Two whole chapters for your enjoyment. I really hope you love this.

* * *

**  
Chapter 7:**** Carrying the Torch**

"Mother may be waiting, Father; but you need my attention as well. I think it would be better if I took your burden from you now," Stella told her father.

"But—"

"If Mother ever finds out you allowed it, I'll tell her that it was my choice to make. She is a queen. She must understand."

Aliyander sighed in defeat. "Very well. Do you know how difficult it is for me to resign my daughter to a life of hardship just because I am not strong enough?"

Tristan stepped forward. "I think there is a way to make it easier for you, cousin."

Stella looked at Tristan in surprise. "There is? But how?"

Tristan answered, "There is no rule that states there must only be one Master of the Winds."

"Tristan…" Aliyander frowned.

"It is alright, uncle," Tristan said, "I have already been thinking about this for quite a long time. My decision has been made. It was either I do it alone or I help her if she decides to take on this burden."

"But the only possible way for both of you to become Masters of the Wind at once would be to forge the channels together. But all three channels must be here. The Crystal Flame is with Hector," Aliyander said.

"_It is_."

Everyone turned to look at the person who spoke.

"Cousin?" Aliyander finally said.

"So that's what you were doing," Tristan stated.

Hector nodded. "I felt you were up to something boy. And the fact that Aliyander isn't dead has not escaped my notice either. If he had been dead, the winds wold be free again. Sometimes I wonder how Flerynn has not noticed it. Either she has grown dull-witted—please forgive me for saying that Aliyander—or she's still hoping you're alive so that she can either gut you or kiss you."

To everyone's surprise Aliyander blushed slightly when Hector spoke of the queen.

"So I followed you here, boy. I knew that I would probably play a role in this great legend."

"Legend? Are you crazy, Hector? I'm practically making my children suffer!" Aliyander burst out.

"And you're also probably making them immortal—for immortals."

Aliyander looked thoughtful. "Now that you've mentioned it, that is true. They will never be able to pass on to the Land of Eternal Fire for as long as Thyhierda stands. Are you ready to commit your lives to such a fate, children?" He asked Stella and Tristan.

The two nodded firmly.

Aliyander sighed. "Hector, you better help me explain this to Flerynn when this is over."

"Oh so you do plan to see her again," Hector said.

"You know me well enough to not be surprised. But I'm still surprised you don't think I'm a traitor."

"Cousin, between the both of us, I would be the more likely one to turn traitor. I should know. That is why I believe your story."

"You were listening?" Aliyander asked incredulously.

"Of course. I needed to prove a few of my theories."

Aliyander smiled. "Thank you, cousin."

"You're welcome."

"But, Hector, the Crystal Flame may be destroyed in the process. Are you alright with that?" Aliyander asked.

"Yes, I am," Hector answered immediately. "It's about time someone put a stop to this Flame Master business. Really, it is quite tedious. Always having to train someone and so on."

"Cecilyn has been nagging you again to find a successor, hasn't she," Aliyander asked.

Hector sighed. "Sometimes I wonder why I married her instead of Flerynn."

"Because, cousin," Aliyander said, "I would have killed you—cousin or not."

"Oh yes, I forgot about that. Well, shall we begin. Tristan stand over there. Estella please stand there. Good."

Stella and Tristan gasped as they felt a burning-freezing sensation flow throughout their bodies. They could see nothing but a never-ending bright light. Then Aliyander's voice could be heard. "To you Estella Shaphira Flerynnyl Aliyandryl and to you Tristan Mareilyn Hassandryn I give the rule over the winds. The east wind. The west wind. The north wind. And the south wind. Let them prove you strong of will, heart, and magic." There was an overwhelming force pushing the two through the endless tunnel of light. Then it was over.

Stella opened her eyes. She looked at Tristan. He looked slightly dazed. Then it hit her—a wave of pain. She gasped from the shock and fell to her knees. She saw Tristan in the same position. Hector and her father helped them up to their feet.

"It's like this at the start, my dear," Aliyander said to Stella soothingly.

"So much pain," Stella gasped, "And I am not bearing it alone. How did you do it, Father?"

Aliyander smiled, "With your mother. She stood by me. She never left me," the smile faded, "I left her."

"But you did not really leave her, Father," Stella patted her father's arm comfortingly, "You were watching her always—for as long as the wind was blowing over Thyhierda. I can feel it."

Aliyander's smile returned a little. "Yes, I believe so." He blinked. "Hector, I almost forgot to tell you," he turned to his cousin, "I finally met someone whose a bigger gossip than you."

"What? _Really?_"

Aliyander nodded solemnly and said, "The north wind."

Hector sighed. "And I thought I would like to meet this person, now that I am free of the Crystal Flame, which might I say vaporized beautifully. But alas, I don't like the north wind. It's cold."

Aliyander laughed out loud and soon the others joined in. They all agreed whole-heartedly.


	9. Keeping the Flame and the Winds

**Chapter 8:**** Keeping the Flame and the Winds**

The huge twin doors to the Great Audience Hall hurriedly opened with a resounding bang. Everyone was startled and turned to look at the herald who—for the first time since anyone could remember—looked disheveled.

"Your Majesty," His voice wheezed and wavered as he panted, "May I present to you Estella Shaphira Flerynnyl Aliyandryl of Thyhierda."

Flerynn abruptly stood and quickly swept to the door where a young woman stood.

"My daughter. You have returned at last." She embraced Stella tightly.

"Hello, Mother."

For a long time there were no sound then Flerynn started to sob. The courtiers were astonished. There queen had not shed a tear since her husbands death.

Flerynn stopped sobbing enough to look at Stella's face. "Let me look at you, my darling." She cupped Stella's face in her hands and examined her from head to toe. The queen was smiling so brightly for the first time in a long time, then she frowned slightly. Turning to the herald she asked, "What is this Aliyandryl nonsense, Luron?"

"Well, that's my fault Mother. I told him to say it without arguing."

Flerynn sagged a little. "So you know who your father is then?"

"Yes, she does," a masculine voice said.

Flerynn turned white as a sheet. "Aliyander."

The guards quickly moved to arrest him but Tristan stepped in the way. "He has done nothing wrong," he said aloud so that everyone in the chamber could hear.

Kneeling at Flerynn's feet, Tristan said, "Your Majesty, it is I who have wronged you. I lied all these years that my lord Aliyander was a traitor and that I had killed him. There is nothing I can do to atone for causing you unhappiness all these years."

Flerynn took a step backward. "What? And you did this because…?"

"Because I did it out of loyalty to my uncle Aliyander. He was trying to protect you from himself, My Queen."

Flerynn beckoned to Tristan to follow her as she sat back on her throne. Leaning forward she said to Tristan, "Tell me _everything_." She did not look at Aliyander once.

Tristan told her everything. When he had finished, Flerynn sat back and thought. She suddenly stood up and said, "Aliyander."

Aliyander stepped forward eagerly, with his heart on his sleeve, but Flerynn's blank expression did not waver and she signalled him to follow her through a door near the throne.

"Your Majesty!" Many voices of protest were heard from the guards and courtiers.

The queen silenced them with a look.

"Come," she said to Aliyander.

When they stood behind the door, Flerynn looked at Aliyander and said, "Tell me what I am to you."

Aliyander answered without hesitating, "My love and my queen."

Flerynn cried out joyfully and threw her arms around Aliyanders necked. She embraced him desperately as she cried into his shirt. Aliyander cried with her and held her just as she did.

Such was their joy that when they entered the throne room once more, the people of Thyhierda saw the queen—radiant and complete—with her hand enveloped in the palm of the man everyone knew she loved.

* * *

Flerynn and Aliyander had two more children after Estella Shaphira. A son and a daughter. And they lived happily together, ruling Thyhierda as the land progressed into another age. They were succeeded by their son, Landor, who never married and passed his crown to his sister Rinelyn's children. 

As for Estella and Tristan, the Masters of the Winds, they remained in Thyhierda for as long as Flerynn's and Aliyander's descendants ruled. They would remain in Thyhierda for as long as the land stood for they held up its life.

And as time went by, they were not only Masters of the Winds but also Keepers of the Flame, for they were always to remain and could keep vigil—always watching the steady burning of the source of strength of the greatest nation that could ever exist.

Of course, they also had their occasional trips out into Kyrria or Ayortha or the lands far beyond the horizon; but they were always certain to return to the land that was theirs to keep.

* * *

The End. They probably lived happily ever after, of course.

* * *

And with this I conclude my story. I finally finished it. Hurrah! 


	10. Author's Remarks

Dear readers,

If you guys are probably wondering why this is such a short story compared to the others I am still writing, I didn't really intend for this to be long at all and tried to make it as short as I could. I just wanted to get the story and plot out of my system because it kept on popping up at the back of my mind at the most inappropriate times—a.k.a. times when I'm trying to concentrate on finishing my other stories.

I'm sorry if there wasn't as much comedy in this one compared to the other stories I've written for other books or categories, but I assure you I did my best to make it as nice to read as possible.

The style, as some have mentioned, is quite odd at times, and for that I apologize. I wanted to try out something different and couldn't really stick to it for too long. I got bored with my own writing. Heehee. Well, that's all.

Anyway, thanks for reading. I hope you'll read my other stories as well. They are assuredly very entertaining.

--

ultimatedramaqueen


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